Target Practice
by DevRiot
Summary: A mysterious time agent hits on Sherlock and John in a bar - and Sherlock doesn't take too kindly to it at all. Johnlock fic. Captain Jack Harkness. THIS FIC USES THE 10TH DOCTOR. Rated T for language and mild suggestive themes - I mean come on, it's Jack. Oneshot.


Long coats were _his _thing. It was his signature move. He couldn't picture anyone else ever pulling it off, until that night when he came to London. He needed to get out of Cardiff – Torchwood was practically closing down, and there was nothing he could really do about it. Even trying to seduce the man who'd made the call didn't work. So he came to London, just for a night, hoping to get laid really. And that's when he spotted them. A tall, dark haired man in a long flowing coat. Long coats were _his_ thing. There was another man, just beside him – a shorter, stockier man with dark blond-grey hair. The thought crossed his mind that they might be a couple, but it didn't faze him – hell, he'd have both of them. He finished his drink and stalked over to the pair, leaning on the bar next to the tall, dark haired man.

"Hey. Capt'n Jack Harkness. And you are?"  
"Not interested." The man snorted, not even bothering to look up from the glass of water in front of him.

"Really? Don't sound so sure. Give me five minutes to talk to you, and I bet I'll change your mind." Jack drawled in his thick American accent, leaning a little closer to the man with a smirk. The man turned to face him and narrowed his eyes a little.

"American. I've had a few bad encounters with American government agents, and you won't be an exception to my feelings of dislike unless you back away now."

"Sherloc-"

"Not now, John." The man huffed. Jack just smiled.

"Sherlock Holmes. _The _Sherlock Holmes. I should've known. Well, Mr. Holmes, I'm not a government agent. In fact, quite the opposite. And I'm not exactly American anymore either. Based in Cardiff. And at a guess, I bet by the end of the night you'll realise I'm like no man you've ever met before. So I guess I _am _an exception." he smirked. Sherlock looked Jack up and down for a split second before looking him in the eyes.

"You're very strange. Your dress and mannerisms are like that of a 1940's military man, but that's virtually impossible, so I'm guessing you're very old fashioned and stuck in the past. However, since you've been attempting to flirt with me, you're either gay or bisexual since I saw you eyeing the hostess as you came in. I see a man who's lost and looking for something to cover up the years of tragedy he's been through by sleeping around with so many people you can't even keep track. So to answer your questions; no, I will not sleep with you. No, you cannot buy me a drink. No, I am not interested in anything you have to offer. And you will never be any exception of mine. I don't associate with people from Torchwood." Jack smirked and licked his lips.

"They said you were good." he nodded, turning back to the bar. "You got most of it right, but some of it wrong. But you really are good. Love to see what else you're good at..." Jack winked. "At least you know I'm from Torchwood. I'm flattered that you've heard of me, Mr Holmes... but I wasn't actually expecting you to sleep with me. Although, if you're offering... I'd like to extend it to both you, and your cute little friend." That made Sherlock growl possessively, and he stood in front of John.

"Ooh..." Jack grinned, biting his lip when Sherlock stepped in front of his friend. "Little bit attached, aren't you, sweetie? ... That's cute. If you'd told me it was gonna be a threesome, I'd have come over a bit earlier." he smirked.

"We're not actually together. Just friends." John spoke up, casting a sidelong glance at Sherlock, who scoffed at the discussion, and returned to Jack. "You're awfully blunt about this, mate, but what the hell, fancy a pint?"  
"_John_," Sherlock snapped indignantly. "We're here on a case, not to get laid."

"Hey John, Capt'n Jack Harkness." Jack grinned, holding his hand out to the shorter man, who took his hand and shook it firmly. "Ooh... military. Can always tell by the handshake."

"Captain John Watson, at your service. Also a doctor though." John smirked. Jack grinned and bit his lip, changing his position so he was next to John instead of Sherlock, as the shorter man was obviously giving him more attention.

"You should have told me you were a Captain. I have quite the military kink. One of the reasons I joined in the first place." Jack winked. Sherlock growled again and stepped between them.

"I suggest you back away before I put a bullet in your head." Sherlock spat through gritted teeth. That just made Jack laugh.

"Be my guest, Mr. Holmes. In fact, why don't we go out into the alleyway, and you can do a bit of target practice?" he smirked. Sherlock narrowed his eyes.

"I don't understand."

"I want you to shoot me, Sherlock. Nothing gets me hotter than being fired at by a man in a long coat." Jack purred.

"Nothing would give me greater pleasure." he smiled falsely, before turning to John. "Give me your gun, Watson."

"What? No. Not in here, people will see it and they'll freak out." John defended.

"Fine, we'll go out there then. Lead the way, Harkness."

"By all means." Jack smirked, pushing himself from the bar and out of the exit, allowing his coat to billow behind him as he strolled out into the calm night air of London, quickly finding an alleyway and pacing around. Sherlock and John followed calmly, and John took the gun out of the back of his trousers and passed it to Sherlock as they walked.

"You're not actually going to shoot him are you? I don't trust him but... It sounds like he'd enjoy it."

"If he asks me to, I won't deny him the pleasure." Sherlock grunted, looking at John for a split second before he was face to face with Jack again. "So, Captain Harkness, how do you suggest we go about this?" he asked, standing his ground. Jack smirked to himself and began to circle around Sherlock and John.

"Well-"

"Stop circling us, you're not a vulture." Sherlock spat, and Jack complied, stopping just in front of John.

"Hm... well, feel free to shoot me at any time, but at least let me get a little look at this little cutie..." Jack purred, looking John up and down and reaching a hand out to touch him – but Sherlock immediately raised the gun to Jack's head and shot him, letting the man fall to the floor, lifeless. He shot him again in the stomach, just for good measure.

"Sher-.. Sherlock what did you... Why did... I..." John crouched down beside the body and took Jack's pulse. "Bloody hell, Sherlock, he's dead."

"I only did as he asked. I could shoot him at anytime."

"You just killed a man, Sherlock!" John shouted, quickly panicking. "Is this what you do to everyone who tries to chat you up in a bar? That's all he did."

"No, he tried to touch you. He was going to touch you, and I don't trust him."

"Ah." John murmured, suddenly stopping his panicking and turning to face Sherlock. "Why wouldn't you let him touch me? What's so wrong about that?" Sherlock stayed quiet, biting his lip slightly as he looked down at the floor. "Well?"

"Because you're mine!" he growled possessively, "... and I don't want anyone to touch you but me. You've always been mine, whether you knew it or not. And you went through all those bloody girlfriends, and I hated each and every one of them, because they could do what I couldn't. You're mine, John. I..." he hesitated, "I... John, I-"John cut him off by grabbing the lapels of Sherlock's coat and pulling him down into a heated kiss, completely ignoring the dead body on the floor. Sherlock kissed back just as fiercely, letting one arm snake around the man's waist while the other found his hair.

"Well I've had morning glory before, but if you two keep doing that, I'm seriously gonna wake up with a boner." Jack's voice murmured from the floor, his eyes locked on the two men kissing in front of him. Sherlock pulled away instantly and looked at the man with wide eyes.

"You... you were dead. I killed you... you..." he stuttered.

"Well, I did tell you I was good for target practice." Jack grinned as he stood up from the cold alley floor, clutching his stomach – the blood from the wound in his stomach had stained his shirt, but it was now completely healed, and the bullet in his head fell out and clinked onto the floor. "I sorta have this great thing where I can't die. It's the Doctor's fault, really."

"That's brilliant." John murmured, in complete awe. Sherlock gave him a stern look that said '_you only tell me I'm brilliant, shut up'_.

"Who's the Doctor?" Sherlock asked, narrowing his eyes at Jack, obviously irritated that the man had come back to life.

"Really? I thought you two might have met. There's no way he could resist not coming to see you. Or maybe he just watched you from a distance, I don't know with that guy. He's a time lord. Probably haven't heard of them. But then again, you know about Torchwood, so there's no reason why you wouldn't have known." Jack shrugged, dusting himself off and pulling his coat straight. "He'll probably swing by at some point and take you off in his box. It's bound to happen one day."

"How did you survive? It's impossible."

"Evidently not. Your little friend just took my pulse. I was dead. And now I'm not. Come on, don't talk like that's _completely_ alien to you - you've had a bit of experience in the whole 'coming back from the dead' area, haven't you?" Jack winked. "Shoot me again if you like. I'll only be back in 5 minutes or so." Sherlock saw red and swung his arm back, before releasing it forward to hit Jack straight in the jaw.

"Stay the hell away from me, and from John. Come near us again and I'll break something else."

"Ooh, so I can heal again? What exactly will you be achieving?" Jack threatened, squaring up to Sherlock and getting in his face.

"Well at least then I can break you as many times as I need to."

"That sounds a little homo-erotic to me, and I can't say I'm not enjoying it." Jack smirked, looking Sherlock straight in the eyes.

"Ladies, ladies... Please." John murmured, stepping between them and pushing them apart. "Now, come on, all of this can be resolved if you two just shake hands an-... What the hell is that noise?" he froze, looking around as he heard a strange whirring sound.

"Ah. There he is now. The Doctor. Oh, he's gonna love you, cutie. Both of you." Jack smirked, noticing the TARDIS materialising not far ahead in the alleyway and quickly running over to it. He banged on the door, and out popped the head of the Doctor.

"Oi! Stop banging on my door!" The man shouted, before stepping out of the box, his lean figure almost rivalling Sherlock's. He grabbed Jack's hand and shook it violently before pulling the man into a hug. "Aw Jacky boy! Nice to see you around!... And you've been shot." he murmured as he noticed the blood-stains on the man's shirt. Jack shrugged as he pulled out of the hug, giving the Doctor a cheeky pat on the bum. "Stop it."

"You ruin all my fun. Yeah, I got shot. Want me to introduce me to my shooter? Aw, you're gonna love this." Jack grinned, grabbing the Doctor by the arm and walking him over to the two men, who were standing dumbfounded by the man who'd just appeared in a box. "This is Sherlock Holmes. _The _Sherlock Holmes. And this is Doctor John Watson." he smiled, triumphantly.

"Marvellous. Absolutely marvellous." The Doctor grinned, holding his hand out to shake John's hand. "I'm a huge fan of your blog, Dr. Watson."

"You... read my blog? You?.. A man who just turned up in a... police box?" John mumbled incoherently, shaking the man's hand, but still confused by the situation.

"Yeah. I've gotta say, I love the one with the aluminium crutch." The Doctor laughed, "'s my favourite. You!" he murmured, letting go of John and holding out a hand to Sherlock. "You must be Sherlock. It is a _pleasure _to meet you. I'm a huge fan of yours in general." he grinned. Sherlock narrowed his eyes at the man, keeping his hands behind his back, refusing to shake. He scanned him up and down, trying to make some deductions, but his mind was completely blank. He couldn't get anything from the man. Before he could say anything, John elbowed his side gently.

"Don't be rude, Sherlock. Shake his hand." Sherlock rolled his eyes and held his own hand out, shaking the Doctor's and giving him a false smile.

"Aw that's cute. I love how you have control of him already." Jack smirked, moving his hand to ruffle John's hair. Sherlock quickly moved his hand from the Doctor's grasp and slapped Jack's hand away, giving him a cold glare that screamed '_back off'. _"So defensive." Jack sighed, stepping away. John took Sherlock's free hand in his and laced their fingers.

"It's okay, Sherlock. He's not gonna hurt me."

"I just don't want him touching you." Sherlock sighed, squeezing his hand.

"So what if he does? I've made it pretty clear that I only want you." John murmured, turning and kissing Sherlock again, moving his hands to cup the man's face. The Doctor pulled Jack to one side to give the pair some privacy.

"Will you stop flirting with everyone? You're making Sherlock edgy." he warned, pointing a finger at the Captain.

"Excuse me? I'm just having an innocent flirt. It's 'cheekbones boy' over there who's throwing a strop. Shouldn't you be telling _him _to get a grip?" Jack huffed, folding his arms and looking at the Doctor.

"I'm pretty sure John's covered that one." The tall man spoke firmly, gesturing over to the couple with his head. "Besides, you _did _flirt with his boyfriend."

"Actually, I don't think they were even together until I came alone. If anything, he owes me." Jack sighed, looking over to the lovers in the corner. "Look at 'em. Jesus Christ, that's hot. I wanna join in."

"Stop it."

"Doctor, quick, kiss me!" Jack grinned, reaching over to the Time Lord.

"Easy there, Captain." The Doctor warned, reaching out a hand to Jack's chest to stop him from coming any closer.

"You literally ruin _all _my fun." he sighed. "Where are you planning on taking these two anyway? Because at this rate, all they'll need is a bedroom."

"Actually, Jack, I'm here for you." The Doctor murmured, "Something's come up and I need to take you away with me. Probably shouldn't give you details here. I've got a feeling Mr. Holmes is still listening. With a brain that quick, you can't shut it off at will." he smirked.

"Indeed." Sherlock nodded as he pulled away from the kiss, still holding onto John's hand. "If you two... need to leave then... I think John and I have some business to attend to."

"Film it for me, sweetcheeks." Jack winked. Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"It's been lovely meeting you, Doctor." John smiled, holding out his free hand to the tall man. The Doctor took it in his own and shook it with a smile.

"Pleasure's all mine. Maybe one day I'll come back and take you away with me, hm?" he chuckled.

"That'd be great. You too, Jack. Nice seeing you." John nodded, holding his hand out to the Captain, despite the detective on his other side squeezing his hand a little tighter.

"Listen, if you two ever need to spruce things up in the bedroom, give me a call." he grinned as he shook the man's hand.

"Uh... we'll be in touch."

"No we won't." Sherlock corrected him with a stern face. Jack rolled his eyes.

"Nice meeting you Sherlock."

"Likewise. And you Doctor." Sherlock nodded towards the Time Lord, but kept his free hand by his side.

"Goodbye Sherlock. Come on Jack, Allons-y!" The Doctor grinned, grabbing the man's hand and pulling him into the TARDIS. After a moment, the box was whirring and started materialising out of view.

"What the hell was that all about?" John asked, a little dumbfounded. "Did we have one too many beers in the pub?"

"I wouldn't worry about it, Watson. Now come on, let's get you home." Sherlock smirked, squeezing John's hand again before turning on his heel and pulling the man down the alley with him.

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